


Not A Model

by LittleRose13



Series: Shipmas 2018 [6]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: Father Christmas - Freeform, M/M, Puddlemere United, Shipmas 2018
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-14
Updated: 2018-12-14
Packaged: 2019-09-18 06:04:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16989432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleRose13/pseuds/LittleRose13
Summary: “No,” Albus said hurriedly. “No way.”James just grinned wickedly.“Stop it, no, stop looking at me like that.”“Come on, Albus, you’d really be helping me out. I’ll make it worth your while.”Albus shook his head firmly. “I don’t care how many chocolate frogs you bribe me with, I’m not dressing up as an elf.”Grandma Molly set down the tea towel she’d just folded. “You were just saying you didn’t have anything to do today, Al.”Albus scowled. “Whose side are you on?”Albus ends up far more involved in the Puddlemere United Christmas charity day than he’d ever intended.





	Not A Model

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: I don’t care how many chocolates frogs you bribe me with, I’m not dressing up as an elf

“Here you go, Grandma. It should last you a while.” He placed the extra large potion bottle on the kitchen counter with a flourish he realised he was accidentally copying from Scorpius. 

“You’re a darling, Albus, dear.” She reached up and cupped his face in her hands, peering into his eyes. “It is helpful having such a talented potioneer in the family. Just the other day I was at the post office and the two women in front of me were gushing about your Extra Strength Pepperup.”

“Were they really?” Albus blushed, half suspecting that his grandma was making this story up. 

“I said  _ that’s my grandson’s business, you know  _ and they were most impressed, as they should be.” She ruffled his fringe proudly. 

“Thanks, Grandma,” Albus ran his hand through his hair, trying to push it back into place as best he could. 

She sighed, going to fetch the boiled kettle. “You work so hard.”

Albus mumbled something dismissive. He just spent all day making potions, that was all, it barely felt like hard work most of the time. He wasn’t like James, tipped to be chosen for the next national Quidditch team and breaking Chasing records every other match. James had been the youngest Chaser ever to play for Puddlemere’s starting lineup, all Albus did was mess around with ingredients in the spare bedroom turned workshop in his and Scorpius’ flat. 

“Now, you are eating enough, aren’t you? You look as if you’ve lost weight, my love.” 

Albus looked down at himself blankly. “Do I? I don’t know, I’ve been running a lot more, James got me into a bit of lifting, but nothing major.” 

It was true. James had suggested Albus start coming to the gym with him and Albus had reluctantly agreed, before finding he quite liked the feeling of routine it brought. Working from home for himself and being the way he was meant Albus had a tendency to get a bit obsessed with his potioneering if he let it and he’d do things like forget to eat all day because he’d had a breakthrough in an experiment. Scorpius had made him a schedule which squeaked at him reminders to take a break or eat some lunch. 

Apparating to the gym had turned out to be something Albus enjoyed enough to want to break for it. Once James had taught him some basics, Albus got quite used to going by himself. He always went during the day, when there weren’t as many people around, and certainly no other young men who would inevitably be lifting weights five times heavier than Albus could, all with six packs like James had. 

“Why don’t I send you off with some gingerbread and maybe a couple of tins of toffee? You and Scorpius can share them. I suppose he’s working today, too?”

Albus accepted the mug of tea she handed him and nodded sadly. “Scorpius has been working constantly recently. Two children now have confirmed Black Cat Flu, they’re both in quarantine.”

Grandma shuddered from the other side of the kitchen counter, clutching her own tea. “Heavens, I never thought I’d live to see Black Cat Flu rear its ugly head again.”

Black Cat Flu was an old and highly contagious disease which could affect anyone with magic. It was unpleasant at best but could be fatal to anyone without complete control over their magic, meaning young children were the most at risk if they contracted the illness. Scorpius had two children under five on his ward with Black Cat Flu and he was working around the clock to heal them before any lasting damage could be done. 

“Well, it’s only these two cases. Scor and his colleagues are hopeful it won’t spread any further.” Albus took a sip of tea and sighed. 

“I remember there were whispers of a BCF outbreak when Charlie was born. Everyone was terrified of using magic around their children, people would clean their wands twice.” Grandma shook her head, placing the lid onto a large tin. “Does Scorpius know where it came from?” 

Albus spun his wedding ring around his finger and grinned a bit to himself. The truth was, Scorpius  _ didn’t  _ know where the cases of Black Cat Flu had originated, but that didn’t stop him from frequently wondering about it at the most inopportune of times. Albus happened to be thinking of one time in particular, a few mornings ago, in the throes of passion when it had suddenly occurred to Scorpius. 

“They’re still investigating,” he said in as even a voice as he could. 

“Well, send him my love.” Grandma patted his shoulder and there was a natural pause while they both drank their tea. 

“I wonder how they’re getting on up there,” Albus smirked.

His grandma smiled. “Arthur’s very excited about it, he’s been talking about this charity event all week.” 

“I was going to ask how James convinced him to dress up as Father Christmas but I’m sure it didn’t take much persuasion.”

Grandma chuckled. “Are you coming along too, Albus, dear?” 

Albus nodded vaguely. “Yeah, I’ll probably tag along with Teddy and the twins. Seems a bit weird to turn up to a kids’ thing without a kid.” 

Puddlemere United held an annual Christmas event to raise money for St Mungo’s and some clever spark had put James in charge this year. As far as Albus knew, their grandad was playing Father Christmas while James and his teammates rallied around in elf costumes or something equally as ridiculous. 

“You can Floo over with us if you want, meet Teddy there,” Grandma offered, “unless you were planning to go home first.”

Albus shrugged. “No, I don’t really have any plans for today. Me and Scor were going to collect fairies for the house but almost all our Christmas plans have had to scale down now he’s working all the time.” He sighed sadly; of course Albus didn’t blame Scorpius for needing to work so much, but it was still hard to be apart at Christmas. 

“You can pick fairies up in Diagon Alley,” his grandma suggested, using her wand to put the kettle away. “Maybe Scorpius would have time for that?”

Albus snorted. “Lily would  _ kill  _ us.  _ Those fairies are farmed for mass production, Al, and they have no quality of life. None of them survive in the wild when Christmas is over, it’s barbaric.”  _

Grandma Molly looked a bit nonplussed. “I can’t keep up with it all.” 

“We might just have to skip the fairies this year,” Albus shrugged and bit his lip. “Scor’ll be a bit disappointed, but…” He let his sentence trail off unfinished, not really knowing what the end could be. Letting his husband down was his greatest fear in life. 

At that moment, James appeared in the kitchen, a cheerful grin on his face and the most ridiculous outfit Albus had ever seen him wear. It was red, white and green, candy cane stripes, edged with golden bells. 

“What is  _ that?”  _

“I’m an elf!” James gestured down to his ridiculous costume.

“I’ve never seen an elf dressed like that,” Albus scoffed. “What’s with the bells? And the tights?”

“It’ll all make more sense,” he stuck his head out of the door and yelled, “Grandad!” 

Through the door came their grandad, but he too was dressed in a costume. A red suit trimmed with white fur, black boots, a matching hat and a long, white beard spelled onto his face. 

“I’m Father Christmas!” their grandad said, looking thrilled at the prospect. “For the Puddlemere charity day.” 

“And you’re an elf, I get it,” Albus shook his head fondly. 

“Not just me, all us boys are elves,” James explained with a grin. “I have the best ideas.” 

“And you’re so modest too,” Albus scoffed. 

“You and Hubby coming along?” James reached for the tin of gingerbread Grandma had just given Albus. 

“Scor’s not, I am.” Albus slid the tin away from his brother. 

“What was the point of getting married if you don’t bring your husband to my events, Al?” James shook his head. 

“You’re right, that  _ is _ why I married him.” Albus sighed. “He’d love to be coming but he’s working again. You know Scorpius, he thinks this sort of thing is beyond wonderful.”

“He is a bit of a keeno,” James agreed. “He’s busy at work then?”

“Well yeah. Those two poor kids with BCF are key to stopping an epidemic. He’s barely been home, what with curing them at the same time as uncovering where it came from and planning how to stop it spreading.” 

Grandma Molly shuddered at the word  _ epidemic  _ and straightened Grandad Arthur’s false beard. “Can you believe it Arthur? BCF, again, in our lifetime?”

“I remember being eight-years-old and highly suspicious of any and all cats, black or not.” Grandad Arthur frowned. “Now here we are with great grandchildren and it’s back.” 

They both sighed deeply and Grandma Molly glanced at the clock on the wall nervously. 

At that moment, a silvery big cat (possibly a panther?) floated into view and rested in front of James. It spoke briskly, in a deep male voice. 

“ _ Ben has suspected BCF, we are elf down. Any ideas?” _

James watched it leave, clicking his tongue in thought. Then he turned his gaze to Albus, who immediately knew where his brain had gone.

“No,” he said hurriedly. “No way.” 

James just grinned wickedly. 

“Stop it, no, stop looking at me like that.”

“Come on, Albus, you’d really be helping me out. I’ll make it worth your while.”

Albus shook his head firmly. “I don’t care how many chocolate frogs you bribe me with, I’m not dressing up as an elf.” 

Grandma Molly set down the tea towel she’d just folded. “You were just saying you didn’t have anything to do today, Al.”

Albus scowled. “Whose side are you on?” 

James dropped into the seat beside him and fixed Albus with a hard stare. “Al, please. You’re, like, the best with kids.” 

Albus grumbled.

“I’m serious. Every time I see you with the twins I’m blown away by what a natural you are with them, I wish I could do it like you. You’d be the best out of all us boys today. Please?”

He felt himself soften at his brother’s words. James wanted to be like him? Even in the smallest of insignificant ways, Albus felt a bubble of pride rise within him at the very idea. 

“Fine, but no bells.” Albus sighed. 

As it turned out, being good with kids or not wasn’t much of a crucial part of the job as volunteer elf. No, perhaps James should have mentioned that the majority of their clientele for the day seemed to be teenage girls and young women. 

Albus looked out of the window at the queue waiting down below, seeing probably about one small child for every three teenage girls. A lot of the girls were wearing Puddlemere jerseys, artfully cut and ripped to be much tighter and more revealing than Albus had ever seen them on any of James’ team. 

“Why are there, like, no kids?” Albus asked in total perplexion. 

James looked sheepish. “Well, you know how our fans can get.”

Albus nodded. “Yep, queue for hours to take a picture with the Puddlemere boys dressed as elves, I see the appeal. Isn’t that going to be a bit awkward for Grandad?” 

“Shouldn’t be. The event is really only for children, so there’ll be at least one kid in every group for Grandad to wow. He’s been practising his  _ ho ho ho _ voice, Albus.” James clutched his chest, tracing an imaginary tear with his fingertip. 

Albus smiled at the thought. “Do you think the twins will recognise him?” 

“Hadn’t thought of that,” James wrinkled his nose up. “He’ll be in the beard, can babies see through disguises?”

“They’re not babies, James.” Albus snorted. “Pippa and Clem are almost five.” 

James opened his mouth to answer when he was cut off by the door opening and a swarm of red and green bundling into the room and piling on top of James with roars of raucous laughter and shouting. James joined in, clapping the boys closest to him on the back and generally larking about.

Even though they were all dressed as ridiculously as he was, Albus felt pretty stupid in the elf costume James had forced upon him. The top was red and white polka dot on one side and red with green stripes on the other, his trousers were half red and half green and trimmed with bells (James insisted they were the only ones available), they reached his knee and he wore them over candy cane striped tights. There were curly toed green shoes on his feet and a pointy green hat perched on top of his dark hair. James had painted a red circle on each of his cheeks and told him he could only answer to  _ Tinsel McSparklepants  _ for the rest of the afternoon.

“Guys, this is my brother, Al.” 

“Alright,” said Albus, raising his hand in a bit of a wave.

_ Alright?  _ When had he ever greeted anyone by saying  _ alright? _

James grinned and pointed to each of the boys in turn. “Al, this is Will, Rosso, Kiv, AJ, Spanner, Nico, Lenny and Jonesy.”

He may as well have listed their names in Ancient Runes, because all Albus had taken from that was there were lots of people he didn’t know and that one of them was potentially named  _ Spanner.  _ When Albus made it to his brother’s games, all the players went by their surnames, and were usually flying too fast to be recognisable anyway. Albus avoided going out with James and his Quidditch mates where possible. 

“How are you doing, Al,” the bloke nearest him (Nico?) clapped him on the shoulder.

Albus wasn’t sure if he was supposed to answer; the way he’d said it made it sound rhetorical. 

“He’s Ben’s replacement,” James unnecessarily explained; why else would Albus be stood there dressed as a fucking elf? 

“Good on you, mate,” said another member of the team (AJ?). Albus hoped it wouldn’t become wildly obvious that he’d already forgotten everyone’s names. 

“I’ll go and get Grandad,” James said cheerfully, sliding out of the room and leaving Albus with his Quidditch team. 

Albus didn’t have a fucking clue how to talk to these people. They were all like James, if James were surrounded by eight other Jameses, and each James was more James-like than the James before. 

“D’ya play the beautiful game then, lad?” said a particularly burly one of them (Rosso?) in a thick accent. 

“No,” Albus shook his head, realising he was doing it a bit primly and trying to loosen his shoulders up. “Played in school a bit, just for a laugh.”

_ Just for a laugh?  _ He’d never said that expression in his life. 

“Seeker, were you?” Possibly-Rosso ran his eyes up and down Albus appraisingly. 

“Er, no, believe it or not I was a Keeper.” Albus chuckled. “It was a long time ago.” 

“What d’ya do now then?”

Albus opened his mouth to briefly explain that he ran a potion business but one of the other boys spoke before he could.

“Aren’t you on magazines and that?” he asked with a completely straight face.

Albus stared at him in confusion. Magazines?

“He was for sure in last month’s  _ Wizard Style _ ” another one said.

“Jamie said he was.” 

“Knew I recognised him from somewhere.” 

“What? No, I’m not a model, you must be thinking of someone else.  _ James  _ said that?” Albus was flustered, getting the distinct impression he was missing a joke here. 

“Oh, you’re  _ not a model.” _

“He’s not a model.”

“Not a model.”

What the fuck was going on here? What was funny about this? 

James came back in with a smirk on his face. “Guys,” he reprimanded half heartedly. 

“Al was just telling us how he’s not a model,” Possibly-Nico explained with a guffaw of laughter. 

James barely reacted. “This is my Grandad.”

“Pleasure to meet you boys,” Grandad Arthur smiled politely around at them all.” 

“A’wight Arfur,” one of the boys with teeth whiter than Albus had ever seen descended on Grandad and clapped him on the back.

“I’m quite alright, thank you, and how are you, young man?” he replied genuinely.

“Arthur! Legend!” someone else raised their hand for a fist bump and Grandad frowned and attempted to give their fist a handshake. 

“Comin’ for a pint wi’us afta’ game?” someone else asked.

“It’s not a game, Jonesy,” James laughed.

“Aye, it’s not and all,” Jonesy smacked a hand to his forehead. 

“I can’t say I’ve ever come for a pint, thank you very much for the invitation,” Grandad Arthur smiled politely. 

“Right then, everyone ready? Queue’s massive,” James commented looking out of the window. 

Albus swallowed hard, wondering if it was too late to back out. But, as ridiculous as he felt, he could also see that, under his bravado, James was nervous about pulling this off. He wanted to get it right. 

They left the room and set off down the stairs towards where Albus knew James’ elaborately decorated Santa’s Grotto was waiting. On the way, Albus fell in step beside his brother.

“Why’d you tell your teammates I model for fashion magazines?” 

James smirked. “Got you with that, did they?”

“Got me with what? Can you please explain the joke I’m missing?”

“It’s just a thing we do, Al.” James said in a low voice. “Try and get people to say  _ I’m not a model.” _

“But  _ why?”  _

James shrugged. “Funny.” 

“How is that funny? What’s funny about the words  _ not a model?”  _ Albus tried to listen for some kind of hidden meaning or way that the words sounded vulgar.

“There’s this guy on the team, Spanner, and he did this really cringey nude photoshoot once. It involved a fake palm tree and it was hilarious. Anyway, he seemed to think he’d be asked to do a lot more after that, he wasn’t for the record, but his line when anyone asked about it was to obnoxiously say  _ oh, I’m not a model  _ and sort of flip his hair.” 

Albus snorted, feeling second hand embarrassment for Spanner. 

“It just became a thing, to try and get people to unwillingly pull a Spanner. They always get all overly flattered, you see.” 

Albus frowned and opened his mouth to protest. “Did-“

“Don’t worry, you didn’t pull a Spanner. You just looked like a lost sheep.” 

“Brilliant,” Albus said dryly as they reached the bottom of the stairs and James suddenly switched into action mode.

“So, listen up. This is how it’s going to work.” James produced a clipboard from nowhere and consulted it - Albus had never seen his brother use a clipboard in his life. “AJ, Kiv, you’ll be at the end of the queue greeting new arrivals. Will and Lenny, you’ll take it in turns to bring each kid in. Nico, you’re inside the grotto with Santa and me. Jonesy, you’re giving out free gifts as they leave. Rosso and Ben - so now that’s Albus - top of the queue with donation buckets. Any questions?” 

James had said all of this without taking his eyes off the clipboard. There was a general murmur of agreement. Albus cast a wary grin at the burly guy from earlier, who he was pretty sure was Rosso.

It turned out that wasn’t Rosso at all, and the real Rosso was more of a normal human size. He was tanned, had carefully styled hair which swooped across his head into a sort of quiff and was the one from earlier with the dazzlingly white yet approachable smile.

“So, you didn’t get a chance to tell us for real earlier, what do you do, Al?” Rosso handed him a donation bucket. 

“Oh, I own a potion brewing business.” Albus shrugged. “Been going quite a few years now.”

“That’s well impressive, mate.” Rosso grinned. “I was always shit at Potions in school, these days I couldn’t even brew a Pepperup. Thank Merlin for Fleamont’s, I use their hair potions see, would be lost without them.” He ran his hand over his perfectly coiffed hair. “Not sponsored by the way.”

Albus chuckled nervously. “Fleamont’s, that’s me, that’s my business.” 

Rosso gawped at him. “Shut up is it! Mate, I owe you my last eight dates at  _ least.”  _

“You’re welcome.” Albus laughed. 

“Do you have a brand ambassador?” Rosso asked, suddenly serious. “Don’t tell the lads, but I think I’d make quite a good model.” 

“I’ll let you know if we ever need anyone,” Albus said politely, privately thinking that any hair potion advertisement starring Rosso would be taken over by his blinding teeth. 

“Cheers, mate,” Rosso beamed. “Right-o, here they come.” 

The doors were being opened and the people Albus had seen from the window were filing in, snaking up and down the roped out queue to where Albus and Rosso were waiting with their buckets. The first group to reach them consisted of a little girl who couldn’t have been older than four and three teenagers. 

“Are you so excited, Alyssa?” said one of the teenagers, not even looking at the little girl and batting her eyelids at Rosso. “Hi.” 

Alyssa looked skeptical of the whole thing. Albus bent down to her level. 

“Welcome to Santa’s Grotto!” he said brightly, in the voice he tended to use when he spoke to the Lupin twins. “Are you looking forward to meeting Santa?”

“Can I ring your bell?” Alyssa reached out for it excitedly.

“Um, yes, of course you can!” Albus tipped his head to one side so the little girl could reach the top of his hat. She flicked the bell and looked delighted when it rang. 

“Magic!” she cried. 

Albus was vaguely aware of Rosso taking selfies with the older girls but as he wasn’t even on Puddlemere, he doubted they would mind him staying where he was. 

The next group was fairly similar, two teenage girls and an extremely grumpy looking boy of around nine. He scowled at Albus.

“I know that none of this is even real,” he said sulkily. “My sister said I could have three chocolate frogs if I came. It’s boring and you’re not even a real elf.” 

Albus hesitated before kneeling down and beckoning the boy forward. “Ah,” he said knowingly, “you’re one of the  _ special ones.”  _

“No I’m not,” the boy grumbled. “I’m actually very grown up and mature and I am too mature for this.”

“You have an extra special job here. See the other kids? Well,  _ they  _ don’t know the secret like you do. The thing about being  _ mature  _ is taking responsibility for keeping it a secret. Don’t spoil it for the littler kids, yeah?” 

The boy’s frown had faded and he nodded. “Alright.” 

Rosso goggled at Albus as the group moved on into the grotto. “How do you know how to talk to kids?”

Albus shrugged. “I just talk to them like I’d talk to anyone.” He couldn’t understand how just speaking to a few children was impressive to Rosso, who had won several international Quidditch tournaments. 

“Do you have a kid?” Rosso looked confused.

“No, I have two nieces. Well, technically they’re my second cousins, but their dad is-“ Albus realised none of this explanation was at all necessary and was just alienating Rosso further. “Never mind, I don’t have kids.”

“You’ve got the knack then,” Rosso grinned and Albus couldn’t help but smile proudly as the next group arrived. Albus did what he’d been doing so far and immediately looked for the children in the group. But there didn’t seem to be any this time. 

“Look how cute you are!” some girl who looked several years younger than Albus homed in on Rosso and patted his hat. “I love Puddlemere so much!” she insisted. 

“Can I take a picture with you?” another girl grabbed Albus unceremoniously around the shoulders and held up a magical camera.

Before Albus had a chance to splutter a protest and explain he wasn’t on the team, her camera flashed brightly and she giggled in delight. “You’re my favourite player!” she insisted.

What was going on? Did she think he was James? They didn’t look alike enough to be confused for each other. For a start, James was taller and more muscular than Albus, which surely this girl must have noticed, and they had different hair. 

“My turn!” the first girl put her arm around Albus for a photo too and he looked at Rosso, perplexed, but Rosso was too busy posing with the other girl to notice. 

“Thanks, boys!” The girls each blew them kisses before entering the grotto. 

Albus stood still, feeling a bit shell shocked; he didn’t even like girls, but the excessive attention had left him feeling a bit punch drunk. “Are they always like that?” he stuttered weakly. 

“Pretty much,” Rosso shrugged. “It’s pretty great.”

“Er, yes.” Albus didn’t exactly agree with Rosso.

“You single then, Al?” Rosso winked.

“No, no, I’m very much married.” Albus couldn’t help a bit of a soppy smile taking over his face when he thought about Scorpius. 

“You’re never, how old are you?” Rosso asked bluntly.

“Almost twenty-five,” Albus replied a bit defensively. “We started dating in fifth year of Hogwarts, though.” 

“Wow, I was way too immature to make any of my relationships from Hogwarts last.” Rosso started scanning the crowd. “Is your wife here, then?” 

Albus cleared his throat. “My  _ husband  _ couldn’t make it, there’s an ongoing crisis at work.” 

Strictly speaking, he wasn’t supposed to talk about the BCF crisis and anything Scorpius told him about work was in strictest confidence. Rosso didn’t look too interested though, and turned to greet their next group. Albus recognised them immediately.

“Hello, Mr Elf!” A small hand tugged on the sleeve of Albus’ elf costume and he looked down to see Pippa Lupin smiling up at him in delight. She’d run ahead of her family. 

His urge was to pick her up and give her a big hug, but Albus remembered in time that he was supposed to be an elf and not  _ Uncle Al _ and it would spoil things for Pippa. Instead he just smiled.

Pippa beckoned him to her and he knelt down beside her so she could whisper into his ear. “Uncle Al, I know it’s you! Daddy told us you’re helping Santa out this year when his elves were so sick.” 

“It’s a secret,” Albus whispered, pulling her into a hug. She clung to him and comfortably rested her head on his shoulder; it was so sweet that Albus didn’t want to let go. 

“Is that him?” another little voice squeaked from behind.

Pippa pulled away from Albus and glared over his shoulder. “I found him  _ first.”  _

“You gots to share, Pippy.”

Pattering footsteps proceeded Pippa’s twin sister Clementine’s arrival and she too flung her arms around Albus, with more vigour than her sister’s sweet embrace. 

“You are not even sharing too!” Pippa was incensed. 

Albus reached out an arm. “Plenty of room for both of you.” He cuddled them both close to him.

“When are you coming to our house again soon?” Clementine asked bluntly. “Because Daddy said you and Scorpy are gonna babysit us while they go to Quidditch.”

“To… Quidditch?” Albus wasn’t sure what Clementine meant. Teddy and Victoire weren’t avid sports fans by any means. 

“Yes, I heard him tell to Mummy that me and Pippy are gonna have a sleepover because they are  _ trying  _ and trying is what you do at Quidditch. Work as a team and try your best.” 

Albus smirked. “Yep, it’s always important to try your best at Quidditch.” 

If Clementine meant what it sounded like she meant, that was news to Albus. The last time he’d properly spoken to Teddy, he hadn’t mentioned anything about him and Vic trying for another baby. Then again, it had been a while since Albus had caught up with Teddy without the kids around or without it being a work thing. As he ran a business too, Teddy often helped Albus with the marketing side of his potions company. 

“Alright, Tinsel McSparklepants,” Teddy smirked, two small coats in his arms.

“Where’s Vic?” Albus looked around for any sign of Teddy’s wife.

“Working,” Teddy sighed, “you know the struggle of being married to a Healer at the moment.” 

They both nodded in shared understanding. 

“How are you managing work too?” 

Teddy pulled a face. “The girls are coming with me. We’re thinking of hiring a nanny to be honest.” 

“Let me know if I can ever help out.” Albus partly wanted to blurt out what Clementine had just said and ask if it was true, but that was the sort of thing he should probably wait to be told. “How did you know I would be here?” 

“James told me, he sent a patronus so I could,” he raised his voice pointedly, “explain to the girls that their Uncle Al was helping Santa out too, just like Uncle Jamie.”

Albus felt himself soften at this. James had really listened to what he’d said earlier, and had actually been smarter than Albus had; it hadn’t even occurred to him to warn Teddy so he could prepare the girls. James got a lot of stick from a lot of people for ‘never growing up’ but the truth was, he just knew what he wanted from life. Marriage and kids and a nine-to-five career just weren’t very  _ James.  _

“Santa’s a very important boss to work for,” Albus nodded. 

“Actually, been meaning to ask you, are you and Scorp free at all to babysit soon? Maybe,” he thought for a second, “the twenty-eighth?” 

“Quidditch,” Clementine echoed confidently.

“Yes, sweetheart, you’ll still have Quidditch.” Teddy grinned and looked faintly confused. 

“I can almost guarantee Scor won’t be,” Albus pulled a face. “I’ll be around though.” 

Teddy shook his head. “That’s alright, I know they’re a bit of a handful on your own.”

“We’d be okay,” Albus insisted, grinning at Pippa who was fiddling with the curly toe on his elf shoe. 

“It’s okay, maybe next month?” Teddy’s eyebrows snapped up. “By which I mean, in the new year.” 

“Let me know a specific date.” Albus bit back a laugh. “Have fun meeting Father Christmas, girls!”

Teddy grimaced slightly and crossed his fingers, presumably hoping they weren’t going to recognise their great Grandad. 

“You know them, then?” Rosso asked unnecessarily. 

“Those are the nieces I was talking about,” Albus shrugged, having no time to explain before the next group approached. 

After a couple of hours, the queue was dying down and their donation buckets were getting heavy and full. James appeared from nowhere and pinged the bell on Albus’ hat. 

“How’s it going?” He didn’t even give Albus a chance to answer. “I have a surprise for you.”

“A surprise?” Albus asked skeptically. 

“Yes, out the front. Go and have a look, I’ll take over here for the last few kids.” 

Albus narrowed his eyes at James, not trusting his actions. “Did the twins recognise Grandad?” 

“Yes, so me and Teddy obliviated them,” James said sarcastically. “No, it was truly magical and Teddy almost cried.” He rolled his eyes. “Now, go and get your surprise.” 

Sighing in defeat, Albus left James and Rosso, wondering what James meant by a surprise. He half expected Lily to be waiting with a camera, ready to thoroughly document Albus in his elf costume, so it was with pleasant delight that, instead, he found Scorpius, bundled up in a cloak and beaming 

“You’re not at work!” Albus rushed forward and gripped his forearms in delight. 

“Bannister insisted, said I’d been in too much and it was hindering my judgement.” 

“You look exhausted, love,” Albus said in concern.

“And you look utterly adorable.” Scorpius gently poked at one of his rosy cheeks and flicked the bell on the tip of his hat. 

Albus had momentarily forgotten he was dressed as an elf. 

“It’s a long story,” he mumbled. “When do you have to go back to work?” 

“Not until tomorrow morning,” Scorpius sighed happily. “Albus, we get to sleep in the same bed! All night!” 

Albus laughed and kissed him briefly. “What a treat!” 

“I’m going to sleep so much,” Scorpius said in excited longing. 

“You deserve it, love.” Albus took Scorpius’ hand and strolled along with him. “Want to hear something interesting Clementine told me earlier?”

“Always,” Scorpius smiled.

“Teddy and Vic are trying for another baby.” 

Scorpius’ face fell. “Are they crazy? What if this BCF turns into a proper outbreak? Pregnant women will be the number one concern!” 

“Scor, baby, I love that you care, but switch out of work mode, please.” Albus rubbed his shoulder. 

“Sorry,” Scorpius looked uncomfortable. “What I meant to say is, that’s great, and I’m sure they’ve calculated all the risks involved.” 

“Also, we’re not meant to know, so pretend I didn’t say anything.”

“A secret? Albus,” Scorpius whined. “You know I don’t like having secrets. How did Clemmy know, anyway?”

“She doesn’t know that she knows,” Albus chuckled and explained to Scorpius what Clementine had said. 

“So we’ll have the twins for a sleepover…” Scorpius mused slowly.

“And Teddy and Vic will have all the sex, yes,” Albus filled in with a snort of laughter. 

They’d almost made it back to the grotto by this point and James waved them over. 

“Surprise.” He ruffled both Albus and Scorpius’ hair and rushed off. “You’re all done here.” 

Rosso grinned. “A’wight, Al. This that husband of yours?” 

“Nice to meet you, I’m Scorpius.” Scorpius smiled politely and extended his hand.

Rosso shook it and cocked his head to one side. “Ross. You look familiar. Are you a model?”

Scorpius laughed nervously. “I was on the cover of last year’s Smash prospectus, but I wouldn’t really call that  _ modelling.”  _

“So you’re a model?”

“No, I’m a Healer.” Scorpius shot Albus a confused look and he just shrugged. 

”A Healer and a model?” 

“No, just a Healer.” 

Rosso looked disappointed that he hadn’t managed to get Scorpius to say  _ not a model _ . “Aw, well, nice to meet you. Comin’ for a pint with us now, then?” 

Scorpius looked faintly alarmed at this question and glanced at Albus for support.

“I think a forty-two hour shift writes that idea off,” Albus chuckled. “Maybe next time,” he assured Rosso.

“Crackin’. Well, it was great to meet you, Al.” He leaned forward and lowered his voice. “Let me know if you need a brand-“

“Will do, nice to meet you too!” Albus said loudly, taking Scorpius’ hand and moving swiftly away. 

“What just happened?” Scorpius asked in confusion. 

“He wants to model for Fleamont’s Hair Potions, been mentioning it all afternoon.” Albus rolled his eyes.

“I didn’t know you were looking for models.” 

“I’m not,” Albus laughed. “So, how about that fairy collecting we had planned?” Their hands swung as they walked. “Or do you just want to sleep?” 

“I could collect fairies,” Scorpius agreed happily. “We don’t have any on the ward this year, that sounds fun.”

“How are things on the ward?” 

Scorpius sighed in defeat. “We’re still no closer to working out where the BCF came from, and Ella and Bobby can’t go home for Christmas.” He looked so sad at this thought; Albus knew Scorpius would be holding himself partly responsible, even though it was far from his fault. 

Albus chewed his lip in thought for a second. “I have an idea.” 

“An Albus-y idea?” Scorpius asked excitedly.

“Why don’t we collect fairies for your ward instead?”

“Oh! That would be lovely,” Scorpius squeezed Albus’ hand. 

“And,” Albus said deliberately, “I could keep this costume on, we could get you one too, if you want, we could deliver them in person.” He grinned. “Or in elf.” 

Scorpius gasped. “It would make their Christmas! Bless them, they’ve barely been able to do anything Christmassy. What a wonderful idea, Albus!” 

Albus shrugged modestly and muttered something non committal. 

Scorpius wrapped him in a hug and kissed the top of his head, pulling back to smile down at him. “You really are the most adorable elf, I love you so much.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry this is late!! Thanks for reading :) just a lil Christmassy slice of life! Let me know what you thought :)  
> Tumblr: littlerose13writes


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